


Merry Christmas, Daniel

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cabin Fic, Christmas, M/M, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything about falling in love with Jack was new and wonderful. It was all so different to Sha’uri, where love had been etched with pain and loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Daniel

**Author's Note:**

> Tis the season for sap and romance. Consider this fair warning.

Daniel took the TV dinner for one out of the microwave and screwed up his face at the unappetizing aroma that filled the small kitchen. He wandered through to the even smaller living area and pushed a load of reference books off the sofa before sitting down and finally having to contemplate eating the meal. Fork poised over what may or may not have been beef stew, he conceded defeat; coffee and cookies were a much better bet.

He looked around the sad little apartment. He hated it. Drab, uninviting and cold, he’d been almost relieved when the eviction notice dropped on the doormat. He wouldn’t miss it one little bit. He didn’t relish the thought of apartment hunting, though, especially since he had no idea how could afford to live _anywhere._

He reached for the jar on the table by the sofa; it contained the last two chocolate and walnut cookies. He took one and nibbled it slowly, savoring the flavor.

Outside, kids were throwing snowballs, and the couple in the apartment next door appeared to be holding yet another festive party. There was merriment everywhere, except in the cramped place he was forced to call home.

That everyone else seemed to be having a great time didn’t bother him too much. He was happy for them; he just didn’t need or want it for himself. Self-contained and self-possessed were the phrases used most frequently by those paid to care for him as he grew up. They applied even more so to the adult Doctor Daniel Jackson. He had his research -- although his grant money had all but run out -- and his books and languages. Money worries aside, he was content.

Next week, he was to give a lecture to his peers  -- The Old Kingdom and the IV Dynasty. He’d ruffle a few feathers with his theories, again, but he didn’t care. His standing in the academic community could hardly be considered high and that wasn’t going to improve anytime soon. His parents had always told him that remaining true to himself was the important thing. He was prepared to stand by his claims and let the evidence speak for itself, the way the evidence spoke to him. The pyramids _were_ older than convention accepted. With that in mind, he opened his notebook and began to review his findings.

Two minutes later, a snowball hit his first-floor window and he heard the sounds of children’s over-excited laughter as they ran away into the fading light of Christmas Eve. He watched the snow melt and drip slowly down the glass.

“Merry Christmas, Daniel,” he whispered, and raised a pretend glass in non-celebration.

>>>> 

 “Merry Christmas, Daniel.”

Daniel opened one bleary eye. It was still dark.

“It’s still dark,” he mumbled, burrowing further under the covers.

“But it’s Christmas Day. Gotta get up early on Christmas Day.”

Well, someone was definitely up, given the boner that was making its presence felt against his ass.

Daniel sighed, and gave up any hope of getting back to sleep. Jack was awake, which meant that Daniel had no choice but to be awake as well.

“I’ll bet you were the kind of kid who crept downstairs in the dead of night, opened his presents then re-wrapped them again, all without your parents knowing,” Daniel grouched. This bed was warm dammit and perfect for another couple of hours of blissful sleep.

“Busted,” Jack said, rather too gleefully for Daniel’s liking.

“I hate you.” The words were muffled into the comforter as Daniel huddled down further into the delicious warmth of the bed.

“Ah, but I _love_ you.” The boner jiggled against Daniel’s ass again and Daniel growled again. “Stay right there. Breakfast coming right up.”

The bed dipped as Jack got out and made his way to the kitchen.

Beneath the covers, Daniel smiled to himself. Breakfast in bed. Jack O’Neill was a closet romantic. Actually, he was well and truly “out” to Daniel and had been for the four months and two days since a massive row over Daniel’s penchant for parlaying with the Unas while unarmed had resulted in a sudden declaration of feelings. That is to say the declaration was sudden; the feelings had always been there.

_“You’re angry.”_

_“You bet I’m angry.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Why? **Why?** Because it was a fucking stupid thing to do, Daniel.”_

_“Apparently I did fucking stupid things all the time back in the day.”_

_“That was before  ...”_

_“Before what?”_

_...._

_“Before what, Jack?”_

_“Before ... before I realized that losing you forever would break me into a thousand tiny pieces.”_

_...._

_“Um ...was that some sort of declaration of ... love?”_

_...._

_“Apparently.”_

_“Thank god, at last.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Really. You going to kiss me now, or what?”_

Daniel smiled at the memory. It was kind of hard to remain angry at Jack for long. What were a few hours of lost sleep compared to the prospect of an undisturbed Christmas Day at the cabin? Daniel sat up and pulled the covers up to his chin. He looked around the room; folksy, homely, with a picture of Jack’s grandfather and some giant fish on the wall by the door. He studied the photograph. He could easily see Jack in his grandfather. They had the same strong face, the same eyes that could cut you to the quick or melt you to your very core.

He liked this place. It had family history written into every log, every quilt, every picture. Jack belonged here, just as his grandparents and Jack’s parents had before him. Daniel wondered what that felt like. He’d never really felt he belonged anywhere, until he’d found Jack’s arms.

“Breakfast is served,” Jack announced, grandly, brandishing a tray full of goodies. It was hard to look grand in old sweats and an even older “Fishing is Life” T-shirt but Jack looked mighty fine to Daniel. He’d look even finer without the clothes later.

Daniel surveyed the tray ... French toast, a dish of strawberries, some of the Greek yoghurt Daniel adored, a pot of coffee and some pink champagne in a whiskey glass.

“This looks great,” Daniel said and flashed a grateful smile, before leaning over and planting a quick kiss on Jack’s lips.

“Enjoy. I’m gonna take a shower.”

“You’re not gonna help me eat?” Daniel took a strawberry and bit into it, eyes fixed on Jack’s. He made a deliberately moany noise and closed his eyes in mock ecstasy. “Soooo good,” he said, breathlessly.

Jack laughed. It was one of the sweetest sounds Daniel had ever heard, mainly because it was a sound Daniel knew only _he_ got to hear. There were a lot of Daniel-only sounds where Jack was concerned; that hitch in the back of his throat when he was about to come; the cry of helpless, unguarded, adoration he couldn’t stifle when he did come.

“I made it for _you._ Take your time. We’ve got all day for other stuff.”

This time, Jack leaned in and stole a soft kiss.

Daniel watched him go, then looked down at the tray and picked up another strawberry.

It was going to be a good day.

>>>> 

They made slow, sweet, laughter-filled love after Jack’s shower. It resulted in Jack needing another shower, and this time Daniel joined him. It was too soon for another orgasm, so they kissed themselves stupid instead, lingering until the hot water ran out.

They opened presents over coffee; joke gifts and proper ones, all bought and wrapped with lots of love and little finesse.

They ate lunch of fresh fish, potatoes and peas, followed by panettone bought from a Christmas market in town and chocolates Jack ordered from a Swiss chocolatier.

They dozed in front the of log fire for an hour, settled happily on the sofa, Daniel’s feet resting in Jack’s lap.

They woke and smiled at each other and Jack suggested a walk before it got dark.

They left the cabin just as it started snowing.

It was all kind of magical.

>>>>> 

“It’s beautiful out here,” Daniel said, breath condensing in the cold air. The snow was falling gently and forming a silent blanket beneath their feet. It afforded the stunning landscape a special quality of silence. Daniel felt like part of a living Christmas card.

They walked for about an hour, picking up trails and following where they led.

 “I can see why you love it,” Daniel said, as they reached the top of an escarpment and looked down on a frozen lake.

“It’s in my blood,” Jack said, taking in the view before turning his gaze to Daniel. “Just like you.”

Daniel smiled and looked away, embarrassment flushing his cheeks more than the biting wind and cold could ever do. He still found it hard to accept Jack’s loving words sometimes, not because he didn’t believe them but because he wasn’t used to hearing them. Everything about falling in love with Jack was new and wonderful. It was all so different to Sha’uri, where love had been etched with pain and loss.

Daniel scuffed at the snow with his boot. “Thanks for bringing me here. It means a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, softly, “to me, too.”

“Could have been a disaster,” Daniel said, “I could have hated the whole wilderness thing and the cold.”

“Nah,” Jack bent down and scooped up some snow. “Who could hate this?” He shaped the snow into a ball, hands moving in practised fashion. “This is the stuff of childhood dreams. And you’re a dreamer, Daniel Jackson. Even after everything.”

Daniel swallowed hard. Maybe it was Christmas, maybe it was the brandy they’d sipped slowly after lunch, or maybe it was the way Jack knew him too well, but tears felt too close to the surface. So, he, too, bent down and picked up some snow and, without warning, pushed the perfectly formed snowball into Jack’s face.

Like the victim of a slapstick film stunt, Jack stood still as the snow melted and the water dripped down his face. Ice clung to his eyelashes while droplets ran down his cheek and made a crazy pathway through his two-day stubble before dropping from his chin.

Just for a second, Daniel was back in that god-awful flat so many years ago, watching the snowball thrown by the kids melt messily against his window.

He’d been another man, then. He’d been alone and unsure of his future.

Now, he had Jack and a future that, although never certain, seemed to offer the love and companionship he’d looked for all his life.

Part of the snowball landed with a dull plop at Jack’s feet. He ran a gloved hand over his face and flicked the dampness away.

“Of course, you realize,” Jack said, slowly, “This means war.”

Daniel grinned, eyes full of love and mischief. “Bring it on, flyboy.”

The ensuing fight had no winner.

As they opened to the cabin door and raced for the warmth of the fire, Daniel realized that wasn’t exactly true. He had won the biggest fight of all. He was here, alive, and he loved and was loved in return.

Jack shed his outdoor gear and went off to make hot chocolate, loudly claiming victory in the snowball fight, while Daniel crossed the room and watched the sky darken in the cabin window.

“Merry Christmas, Daniel,” he whispered.

For the first time in way too long, it really was.

 

ends


End file.
